in the middle
by parkapeters
Summary: college au in which you and a shy awkward boy named peter parker waltz in the gray area between friends and lovers
1. Chapter 1

You didn't know what a grilled cheese sandwich was supposed to taste like until today. A row behind you, Ned Leeds rambles on to one of his friends as he has been for most of the lecture. "The bread should be just between crisp levels 3 and 4! And the cheese? Only medium rare. _Obviously_." You don't understand the fuss. It's just a sandwich. Still, you listen on because between the laws of thermodynamics going on at the front of the room and Ned's own little discussion at the back, the latter seems the lesser of two boring evils.

The lecture ends and everyone races outside the room. MJ is waiting for you by the door, scrolling mindlessly on her phone. She looks more tired than usual with puffy eyes and hair wildly sticking every which way like she just rolled out of bed.

"I hope you took down notes 'cause I slept through the whole thing," she says.

Ah.

The two of you walk out of the class and you start to talk about Ned and the sandwich and the existence of medium rare cheeses and different crisp levels. MJ nods in agreement. "Such a cultured man, that Leeds."

"Hey MJ!"

Ned is walking towards you—MJ, to be more accurate—with a number of books cradled in his arms, threatening to topple over. Still, he manages to wave. Trailing behind him is his best friend, Peter Parker, who is completely on the opposite end of the spectrum. Where Ned Leeds was loud and chatty, Peter Parker was shy and only really talked when asked a question.

"What's up?" MJ leans on the gray lockers lining the hallway. You busy yourself with yours, replacing and taking textbooks that you and MJ planned to read over the weekend.

"Are you going to Liz's tonight?"

"Sorry, Ned. Y/N and I are studying. Midterms are next week." She looks at you for a moment and adds, "But tell Liz I said hey."

"That's next week!" Ned whines. "Hey, you know what? You should bring Y/N, actually."

Ned's mention of your name was your cue to join in on their conversation. "Who's Liz?"

"We went to high school with her. She's taking up business—I think—in Green?" MJ looks to Ned for confirmation. He nods. Green is a much larger university than yours and is a 20 minute ride away. "Today's her birthday."

"Then you should definitely go! I'll be fine, MJ. Really."

"Only if you're coming with me!"

You shake your head and laugh. "Seriously? I don't even know the girl! Besides, I've already conditioned myself for a night of Netflix."

"Fine." MJ sighs and you and Ned share the feeling of pride people get only when they win against _the_ Michelle Jones. For the first time since the two boys arrived, she finally acknowledges Peter Parker... with a sly wink. "He'll need me to wingman, anyway."

"Oh shut up, MJ." Peter turns a shade of red. Ned lets out a laugh and waves you both a goodbye, dragging Peter along with him.

As you walk to your shared apartment, MJ tells you an unsolicited overview on Liz Toomes. From what you gather, this Liz was captain of the decathlon team who had to leave high school suddenly after an incident. "Tragic, really. I think she and Peter would have gotten somewhere if things turned out differently."

"Peter Parker?" It was hard to imagine the socially-awkward boy having close relationships with anyone other than Ned, let alone a girl who MJ described as 'your typical popular bitch, except she was smart and not really a bitch'.

"Yeah," she continues. "Had a crush on her all of high school."

oOoOo

You decide to retire for the night after finishing season 3 of _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_. After texting MJ to be quiet when she gets back, you do your nightly ritual of scrolling through all your social media accounts. On Instagram, Ned has a photoset up. Your curiosity about Liz has you swiping through the pictures: two selfies of Ned holding up a red solo cup; a group photo of MJ, Ned, and a tall brunette who you're assuming is Liz; and a photo of Peter Parker laughing and holding up two bottles of Grey Goose in each hand.

What?

Peter Parker never struck you as the type to get wild at parties, or wild at all. Then again, you've never talked to him enough to get a solid impression. You lock your phone, dive deep into your sheets, and wait for sleep to come.

It's around two-thirty in the morning when you hear it. The sound of heavy feet dragging across the wooden floorboards of the living room. The doorknob shakes loudly and your bedroom door flies open.

"...MJ?"

"Oh—! Um, h-hi, Y/N. Sorry if I woke you... erm... This isn't MJ's room, is it?"

Peter Parker is standing in your doorway.

The boy just keeps surprising you today.

You flick on your bedside lamp. In the dimness of the room, you see MJ has an arm around Peter and is limply hanging onto him like a ragged doll.

"What happened?" you ask, walking past him and over to MJ's room. "Follow me, her room's over here."

"She's uh... really, really w-wasted—sorry—yeah, you knew that already...," he laughs weakly. "Well, put simply, I saw her slumped near a lamp post." Peter drags MJ to the bed and gently drops her. She lets out a noise you can't comprehend and burrows herself in the covers.

"Jesus. That is just sad, even for her," you say, rummaging around for an Advil and a water bottle, which you place on her bedside table. "Thanks for taking her, Parker. Sorry you had to leave the party."

"N-Not at all! I left hours ago... I was on my way home and just happened to see her."

"So you were just casually 'out' at two in the morning...?" you tease, an effort to lighten the air. Peter's eyes widen as he stammers, struggling to form words. Immediately, you feel conscious about asking. You aren't even friends so he shouldn't have to explain anything to you. In the end, the atmosphere is dripping heavily with awkwardness. "Um, never mind. Do you want anything to drink before you go?"

"I-I'm good... thanks, Y/N." You can tell he's uncomfortable, looking everywhere in the room but at you. "Should I go now?—I mean—I should go now."

You hold the door open for him and he scurries out. The last thing you see are his ears, which are burning red. Shutting the door behind you, you giggle as you recall the events that just transpired. In addition to, he was wearing a blue Midtown High sweater which-based on Ned's photo-you knew he wore to Liz's house party, too. Awkward and dorky as he is, Peter Parker is almost adorable.

On your way back to your room, you walk past the television which right now is a black mirror reflecting your own image back at you.

Your jaw drops.

Peter looking uncomfortable the entire time. Peter seemingly afraid to look at you. Peter's ears.

To think that just a moment ago, you were studying his outfit closely but hadn't even bothered to think of what _you_ were wearing: a loose white shirt and a pair of black lace underwear.


	2. 02: back and forth

Midterms week came and went with no sign of him. Ever since the night of Liz Toomes's party, you find yourself constantly searching the halls for the curly-haired brunette. Each skinny boy donning a flannel is suddenly Peter Parker until they turn to ask if you are okay or why you're staring, pulling you out of your trance.

By the time the last day of exams rolled in, you've learned to accept your little obsession. Why were you so intent on finding him, anyway? What were you even going to say?

Truth is, you and your pride will always go hand in hand. He had already piqued your interest that day by the lockers through his demeanor: shy with just the right amount of mysterious. In a way, you wanted to top that. The final nail in the coffin was seeing his boyish figure in all its awkwardness, standing in the middle of your apartment that night and looking so out of place it made you think of an elephant in a toy store. Not to mention you were standing before him in your most vulnerable getup, yet he was the one flustered and at a loss for words. You are determined to give him a second first impression…one where you are fully-clothed.

MJ saunters into the living room, lazily drying her hair with a towel. She is wearing a rock band t-shirt with tight black jeans. You remember her telling you she is 'getting the hell out to day-drink' once exams are over.

"Y/N, Peter was here last week, no?"

"Huh?" You don't really pay mind to her from your spot on the couch. Your attention is elsewhere, undivided and focused on the paperback novel in your hands. It's always so refreshing to finally be reading text not related to school.

"I asked Peter to drop me off." A pause. "Or did you not notice…?"

Oh God. It's happening. There is no one you know to be wiser than MJ. Of course she knew about what happened in this very room. Of course she knew of your newfound interest in her friend. You struggle to think of something to say to salvage a bit of dignity. In the end, you pretend not to hear her.

When you don't reply, MJ sighs. She knows better than to interrupt you while your nose is buried deep in a book. "No matter. He left his keys here. Will you give it to him if you see him?"

You try to sound as nonchalant as you can. "Sure."

"Well, I'm off. See ya!"

Once the door closes shut behind MJ, you jump out of the couch and run to the marble countertop for Peter's keys. You note the abundance of keychains, mostly from different fandoms you've never heard of. There is one keychain you instantly recognize: the 'A' that symbolized the Avengers. The only two keys in the keyring were labelled 'Home' and 'Stark' in scrawly boyish handwriting. You remember his internship back in high school, something MJ had once said in passing.

The reality of the situation hits you after a beat: he needed his keys to get back home! Is that why you didn't see him all week? What if he never even made it home? You grab the keys and rush out of your apartment. You had to find Peter quickly.

You stop in your tracks. Will it even matter? Even MJ was lax about it. It's been a whole week without his keys. You're sure he's either fine, or dead. In any case, returning the keys now won't change anything. The pace of your walk directly reflects the erratic state of your mind. When you finally step out of the apartment lobby, you take a deep breath and collect yourself: MJ trusted you to get Peter's keys to him, and so to Peter the keys will go. You vaguely remember seeing posters for some film-viewing event earlier in school and you know for a fact Ned Leeds is an organizer for it. If there's somewhere Peter might be today, it'll be at the university.

When you get to campus, you roam for a good five minutes until you reach the back. You immediately spot Ned, wearing a ridiculously bright yellow cap backwards. He's by the back of a building, alone, and helplessly lugging around two tall stacks of plastic chairs.

"Hi, Ned!"

Ned huffs, obviously tired from the demanding physical activity. He smiles when he sees you. "Hey, Y/N! Here for the film viewing?"

"Not really," you say. You decide to help and take one of the two stacks of chairs. He thanks you and the two of you walk alongside each other as you push the chairs forward. "I'm looking for Peter. Do you know where he is?"

He freezes momentarily. "Um… he just left. Like, literally just now."

"Oh, well—"

Suddenly you feel the wind cutting through around you, or above you. It's strange and new, seeing you're currently at an isolated part of the campus where it was all brick buildings on brick pavements. No tree or car or human being nearby to direct the wind in this direction.

"Yo, Ned!"

You whip your head up and you immediately feel your entire body shake with excitement and awe. Perched on top of a building is a famous masked Avenger in all his red and blue glory. There is no doubt that that is Spider-Man.

Beside you, Ned looks frantic. In your moment of admiration, you don't notice him nervously and repeatedly gesturing 'cut it out' to the hero. You can't help but keep your eyes on Spider-Man, who you were secretly a big fan of. From the distance, you can see the whites of his suit's eyes widen. The air is awkward and silent as the three of you stare at each other, each feeling a different emotion. Spider-Man says a hurried "bye" then just as suddenly as he appeared, he shoots a string of web and swings out of the scene.

"Holy shit! Did you—Was that—Oh, my god! You know that guy?" The pitch of your voice is noticeably higher; you are practically squealing at Ned.

Ned scratches the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah, sure. Kinda."

"Oh, my god! Ned Leeds, you need to introduce us."

He laughs. "Weren't you looking for Peter?"

"Right. He left something at our place last week. Do you know where he is?"

"He's uh… at his apartment."

"Can I have directions?" Ned tells you the way and it really shows that he's not good at giving directions at all. You end up just asking what the closest landmark is. He says it's right beside the bank. You know immediately.

"Thanks, Ned! I should probably go there now."

"Wait, no! I-I mean, do you think you can help me bring these chairs to the quad first?"

oOoOo

The sky is orange and tinged with pinkish hues by the time you get a moment to catch your breath. Somehow, you ended up assisting Ned and the rest of the committee throughout the preparations: from lining up the chairs into neat rows to setting up the projector and sound system. You sit on the front steps of the arts building, overlooking the quadrangle. The place is decorated with fairy lights. There are a few bean bags strategically arranged around a large white screen. With the setting sun, everything is gold and magical—the four hours of work actually paid off.

A few feet away, Ned and a tall senior guy—presumably the president of the organization—are deep in conversation. You walk towards them and smile at the senior, then tap Ned's shoulder. "I'll get going."

"Y/N! Thank you so much for your help." Ned pulls you into an embrace. You don't even know why you were helping them out in the first place, but he was so stressed out and persistent earlier that you just had to. The two of you weren't particularly close but you hug back anyway, feeling his sincerity. He really seems like he needed the extra hand.

When you get to Peter Parker's floor, his keys are jingling loudly as you anxiously play with them. You spot the door with his unit number on it and knock twice. You hear absolutely nothing from inside. You knock again, this time calling out his name. A minute passes and you still don't hear anything. You're about to leave when you hear what sounds like a window opening and closing loudly.

"Anyone home?" you call.

"Just a minute!" A muffled voice, but definitely Peter's. You hear footsteps approaching and the door flies open.

"Hey— Y/N?"

Peter's hair is disheveled but the most striking thing is seeing him in just checkered boxers and shirt only partly on. He turns a deep shade of pink and hurriedly pokes his other arm through the remaining sleeve. Awkwardly, he clears his throat and smoothens his white shirt that is now fully on. His lips part and then close, unsure of what to say. You look at each other quiet and wide-eyed.

"I thought you were May… I-I'm so sorry—"

"Hey, at least now we're even."

Surprisingly, a smile cracks on his face and he slowly starts to laugh. You didn't mean for it to be funny at all but his laughter is so contagious you can't help but join him. You expected your next encounter with Peter Parker to be a series of embarrassing moments— this is definitely not what you were preparing for.

Peter's awkwardness with you seems to have dissipated, owing to your little moment. Or probably to the leftover adrenaline from whatever he was doing prior to greeting you, since he was breathing heavily like he just got back from some wild goose chase.

He opens the door wider and you let yourself in. Peter excuses himself and retreats to his room. He emerges back out with his pants on and hair slightly more tamed.

"So, Y/N," he moves to the kitchen, scanning his fridge for a drink he can offer his unexpected guest. You stand in his living room, just observing your surroundings: the carpeted floors, the myriad of picture frames. "To what do I owe the honor?"

"Just here to return your keys. Heads up!"

You toss his keys in his direction and Peter's left arm shoots out, catching it without missing a beat. He didn't even look up from the fridge. That is just amazing reflexes, you admit to yourself.

"Thanks. Good throw, by the way," he smiles at you. Then without warning, he throws a water bottle in your direction. You're able to catch it too, but with both hands and considerably less finesse. "For your troubles."

You sit on the couch while Peter leans against a nearby wall. "My aunt is on holiday. Three weeks in Japan. She's supposed to be back this week so I thought it was her when you knocked," he explains. You apologize for delivering the keys so late—then proceed to blame it on MJ—and ask how he managed to get back that night if no one was home.

"I climbed to my window here at the sixteenth floor," he deadpans. You laugh at the joke.

The two of you waddle in small talk for a few minutes until the pauses in between grow longer than the dialogues. It's getting awkward again. Your watch reads 7:45pm; it's time to get up. You tell Peter you have to go.

Unbeknownst to you, Peter is cursing himself for being the world's most boring conversationalist. He holds the door open and thanks you for the keys. He watches you walk away, feeling very frustrated with himself. His thoughts are racing now and in a rare moment of bravado, he finds himself grabbing his hoodie from the coat hanger and shutting the door.

He doesn't know what he's doing. Only that he's jogging after you despite his mind's protests.

"Y/N, wait up!"

You stop and turn to him.

"Is it okay if I walk you home?" He looks so small from afar, standing in the middle of the hallway.

"It's just—it gets really crime-ey at this time. I, uh, feel like it's on me if you get mugged… you know?"

oOoOo

Between you and Peter is a decent and respectful amount of distance as you tread the sidewalk. In contrast to the heat from this afternoon, the cold air nips at you and you try not to shiver so obviously. You can tell Peter is cold too despite his hoodie since his hands are buried deep in his pockets. The journey back to your apartment started out quiet and full of dead air—the events of today drained you too much to make conversation—until Peter speaks.

"Um. So. Where are you from? If-If it's okay to ask."

It's so sudden it catches you by surprise. By now you already know Peter isn't much of an initiator or a smooth talker, at least not to people he didn't know very well. So this comes across as a great deal to you.

"Ah, he speaks!"

You talk about your city and the two of you start to warm up now that the ice has been broken. You find that you have the same humor and like the same things: science, comic books, and grilled cheese sandwiches, among others. You fall into a rhythm of asking each other questions and playful bantering. By the time you reach your own apartment's doorstep, he has you doubled over in laughter.

"There's no way you got MJ to sign up for ballet!"

"She was so mad when she found out what it was really for—I think she still is—but she went to every class anyway…"

You open the door and the first thing that greets you is the devil herself—MJ with a big fat smirk plastered on her face and her arms folded over her chest.

"Had a good time, you two?" she winks.

"Just doing your chores for you, babe." You dangle your own keys in front of her face as a friendly reminder. She playfully tries to snatch it out of your grip but fails.

MJ directs her attention to Peter and pouts. "How come you never walk me home?"

"I literally just did that last week."

"Eh. You only did 'cause there was something in it for you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about… still hungover?" Peter presses a hand to MJ's forehead, pretending to check her temperature. She swats his hand away.

"Whatever." But there is a knowing smile playing on her lips.

You thank Peter for walking you home and he tells you you owe him now for saving you from the criminals of Queens. The two of you laugh, leaving MJ lost and confused.

"Well, goodnight, guys," Peter says to both of you girls.

"Night, Parker!"

"Night, Peter."

MJ closes the door behind her then grabs you by the shoulders. She has on a look of solid amusement which kind of creeps you out. "How the hell did you get him to do all that?!"

Back at his place, Peter can't stop smiling to himself. He sings happily while he makes a quick dinner, still feeling very elated for having gained a new friend.


End file.
